Consanguine
by Alatariele C
Summary: It is not flesh and blood, but heart which makes us fathers and sons.


**DISCLAIMER: **Ugh, I've said this so many times already but NO, I don't own Naruto. It is the beautiful masterpiece that belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and no one else.

Rays of sunshine are charming, and I think it is fortunate to see them. Uh huh. I mean it.

* * *

**Consanguine**

.

.

.

The first time he looks at Gaara is when his mother's heart no longer beats. Her cheek is cold and clammy to the touch, her eyes unseeing. They are sorry, the medics tell him.

Sorry that Karura-sama is dead. Sorry that the frail child she left behind is a jinchuuriki.

Take care of him." He says, pushing his youngest and last child back into the arms of the hesitant medical team. "I shall be in my office - "

He doesn't want to see his son. He doesn't want to be here, here in the glaring whiteness of the hospital lights with the smell of antiseptic hanging like a shroud over it. He wants to forget, to curl into a ball and nurse the pain that had arisen in his chest from seeing the light in violet eyes fade…

"- Mind him until then." He says as he leaves the room, his robes swaying with the hot wind that blows in.

The first time he sees Gaara is through tears.

iTi

The next time he sees him, Gaara is barely past six months. He is in Yashamaru's arms cradled in the man's own jacket and silent. His brother in law has been avoiding him since his sister's death and it doesn't surprise him.

_Please, Kazekage-sama. He is my nephew._

Then go. Take care of him then. I run the country; I do not need any more distractions.

_May his siblings see him? They've been waiting to meet their baby brother._

Go. And do not disturb me again.

Yashamaru bows respectfully and leaves, telling himself to be glad the Kazekage agreed to at least one of his pleas. Temari turned three last week; he doesn't think it even crossed his mind. Gaara peeks from Yashamaru's back and for an instant his eyes lock with his father's. They are beryl eyes and a strikingly familiar shape…

- and then the door closes.

iTi

Karura's gravestone is smooth, brushed free of the stray wisps of sand carried there by the wind. Visitors have just left flowers here, the petals glistening in a darkness suffused with lonely starlight.

It is easier to remember here. His thoughts are clear and the memories more defined as he traces his mind to better days where love was written on the palm of his hand and smiles sent his way were genuine.

The Kazekage's children are neglected, and all of Suna knows this. Word has spread of the piece of neglected humanity Yashamaru-san protects, that his father cannot bear to so much as look at him. The rest of Suna only follow their Kazekage's example.

He knows that she - smiling, motherly Karura - would see the red-haired child sitting alone at the edge of the playground as her son. And, he wishes he could see Gaara with the same eyes as she would.

All_ he_ sees in his youngest son is a monster.

And he knows who is to blame.

iTi

"Please repeat that, Kazekage-sama"

Yashamaru's eyes widen as his brother-in-law repeats his command. His hands clench and unclench as the full magnitude of his mission becomes clear, what this means for him and what this means for Gaara.

He wants to remind him that Gaara is a child but he is a shinobi and obedient. Dully, he turns away from his leader, sick to the stomach, and wishes his nephew didn't trust him as whole-heartedly as he did.

"And you… Kazekage-sama… can bear to watch it?"

The man gives no reply. His mouth is a thin, hard line and he does not trust himself to speak.

"I understand."

He lies.

iTi

Shukaku thrashes, his rage expressed in an inhuman bellow to the sky where the moon stares impassively down, a white glowing orb that mimics his own eye spectating the scene from the distance.

_Forgive me Karura, but he no longer knows you._

A towering wall of sand subdues him but by the time the rest of the demon has been shut back into its jailer, Gaara is a quivering wreck half-buried in the dune. His pale cyan eyes are glassy and the lonely features have hardened into something more mulishly dangerous. The love he had depended on, rested on, found strength on when the rest of the world shunned him had been yanked away beyond his grasp. It was as if he had nothing to stand for, nothing to live for anymore.  
And the tailed beast the child holds inside him which knows only rage and hatred gives him just that to fill in the void of Yashamaru's betrayal.

Suna trembles as another cry shatters the desert night.

For a small second, just the smallest, barely discernible hint of regret knocks on the Kazekage's stone resolve, for he knows Gaara would never react the same way for him. Gaara loved Yashamaru. Gaara respected his mother. But he feels and would feel nothing for his father - and he cannot blame him.

He sighs and presses a hand to his third eye.

The Ichibi is unstable and as the Kazekage, he must protect the village.

iTi

Gaara is ten years old and he nearing forty. The resemblance is striking. Auburn hair, dark eyes; the same serious, hardened expression. It is the first thing the passing lords comment on when they see Gaara beside him.

_Like father like son_, they remark.

With a bitter aftertaste he agrees.

iTi

They say he is selfless, a true shinobi for sacrificing his child for the sake of the people he protects.

"I'm nothing like it, Karura. If you were here our children would be different."

He thinks of the three of them earlier that day, Temari dragging a clearly uninterested Gaara with them while Kankuro brought tea and asked that they go out as a family sometime.

_"The last time we did was before Gaara was born and we…"_

_"-would be able to use it well for experience in other situations on the field, Father." _

_Gaara said nothing. He knew nothing of the sort and had no intention to. _

_He sees Karura in Kankuro, who fights valiantly for the idea while Temari provides solid support behind him. Some long forgotten paternal instinct changes his answer._

"I told them we would after the chuunin exams. It would be good for our children." _Our. _Half of me, half of you. "What do you think about it, Karura?"

The violets at the headstone sway joyfully. The Fourth Kazekage is certain that Karura returns his smile.

.

.

.

It never happens. Orochimaru launches his assault on Konoha while his children attend the chuunin exams and while the siblings put their training to use, their father's corpse is rotting and forgotten far away in the desert.

iTi

**_"I am no longer the Jinchuuriki you created, Father."_**

Gaara is different.

The Gaara he sees is strong and not a failure. Instead he is the embodiment of his own unfulfilled dreams; it is as visible as the kanji on that porcelain forehead that his people will fight for him and die for him because they believe in him.

He is no longer hardened with hatred. He is no longer alone.

He has forgotten weakness and uncertainty, and has forgotten what it feels to be no one.

Trapped as he is in a pillar of unyielding sand, the Kazekage sees nothing to do but tell Gaara everything. The truth about himself, his mother, his uncle. To put the lie to rest and finally be at peace. It's been a long time coming, and he doesn't expect Gaara to forgive him but this is his atonement, the last thing he can bequeath.

_I should have trusted in him, it's all a parent needs to do… _

"You've truly grown Gaara," he tells him. It feels strange to be so… fatherly.

_Truly strong… Karura, you never left him did you? You always believed in him. _

Her will has seeped into the sand, an undying fragment of her consciousness visible in the looming figure that rises and shields her son. "Your mother truly loved you. She's always been protecting you"

_I stole so much from you. Friends… real connections with people…_

"I never did a thing for you… No, I couldn't even call myself your father"

_More than I ever could have hoped… _

"You have surpassed me… I entrust the village to you now, Gaara"

_Live the life I never gave you. _

As the sand closes in and his paper skin peels, he wonders if those were tears, and what his son meant by medicine…

The last time he sees his youngest son is with pride.

xXx

Karura smiles and beckons him over. Her eyes are dancing, bright with an inner light.

"Come, see how they've grown", she says.

And he takes her hand in his, and watches his children on the earth below.

-FIN-

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Ok, so since I seem to write angsty stuff most of the time, I was opting for a more lighthearted (than usual) fanfic. A pity the Fourth Kazekage is never given a name because it would have been so so much easier to write, rather than "Gaara's dad" or "The Fourth Kazekage."

I was intending to call the fic "Familial", because like, _they're related, _but I went to my best friend the thesaurus and found the word "Consanguine" which just sounds beautiful. Somehow it makes the relationship Gaara and his father deeper and tinged with regret. Which it really is, to be honest. I think The Fourth Kazekage was understandable, if not justified in his actions and that seeing Gaara as Kazekage and how well he has matured and developed over the story of Naruto would no doubt have made him proud. I know he has never been able to be proud of his youngest son before, but that last glimpse he had of him before entrusting the village to his son's care would have filled him with pride.

NoeticSky helped again, as usual, and you can thank her for anything that sounds poetic here.

Please R&R!

Alatariele C.  
- in collab. with NoeticSKy


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